I was supposed to learn what Godel proved with his Incompleteness Theorem during my senior year Logic class in college. No-go. I tried but that was the most difficult course I took and I definitely did not understand the grand finale. To be fair, I'm not sure anyone in class did. Then I tried to read Godel, Escher, Bach, but gave up a few times halfway through. The Theorem haunted me. I knew that it was the basis of how we understand not just numerical systems, but all systems of information based on axioms. I noticed this book at Barnes and Noble over the summer, and while I didn't want to take it to France with me, I went back for it a few months later.
Given all my background with math I was anxious to understand the Theorem. However, this book delved into a biography of Godel for the first two thirds. I learned about his loneliness, his background in Platonic philosophy, and his friendship with Einstein at Princeton (before it was Princeton). I understood for the first time why people study the history of science, as the author wove Godel's interest in different topics and the historical backdrop for his lifetime into his development of this theory. And, ultimately, I did understand the incompleteness theorem, at least for a few moments while it was all in my head at one time. I wouldn't have minded a slightly more mathematical book, but unless you are a mathematician, even this may be too technical or obscure.
The Almost Moon by Alice Sebold
I was hoping to love love love this book but I didn't. Sebold's previous books (Lucky and Lovely Bones) were both shockingly good so my expectations were high. The story followed the days after a middle-aged woman kills her invalid mother. While I thought the writing in this book was superb in certain places, the plot was reasonably predictable and the characters mostly archetypes. The book wasn't particularly memorable, although I enjoyed it while I read it.
Fair Game by Valerie Plame
I heard Valerie Plame interviewed on NPR and decided to reserve her book at the library. I knew embarrassingly little about her story (other than her name and some connection to Scooter Libby), so I figured it would be a good current events lesson. In case you are not familiar with the story: Members of the Bush administration leaked her name to the press as a spy in retaliation for an editorial her husband wrote that did not support Bush's entrance into the Iraq war. To complicate things, Plame worked in the part of the CIA who sent her husband on an expedition to investigate whether Iraq sourced uranium in Niger.
What I found was an incredibly political book in many ways. First and foremost, because Plame was a CIA agent, the book had to be vetted by the Agency, and a good quarter of the book was redacted (blacked out). Often sections were blacked out that did not seem to contain classified information. Sometimes, Plame seems to write sections she knows will be redacted. There is an afterword that explains a lot of the redacted sections with information that is in the public domain but that Plame could not write as a narrative based on CIA guidelines. It made for annoying reading and good commentary.
The story is mostly about Plame's background and training as a CIA covert operative, leading up to the events that outed her as a spy in mainstream media. She takes an inexplicable twenty page detour into her postpartum depression, but otherwise the story is interesting and well-formed, if not well-written. The anger and betrayal that she feels towards the government is clearly emotional, albeit justified, which in some cases is far too much telling and not enough showing. Someone who is not inclined to dislike the current administration would probably find her to be protesting too much. (Interestingly, though, Plame was on the CIA team seeking evidence of WMD's to justify invading Iraq in the early 2000's.)
Despite these criticisms, I did learn from the book, which is always a recommendation unto itself.
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